Monday, March 26, 2012

It's time for the science fair. Trevor and Hector caught me on the way to the copy room after school, asking for a copy of the procedure-writing tips page.

As a middle school teacher, I've learned the fine art of when to be stern and when to be a goofball. Trevor and Hector's class had been particularly unruly the last couple of weeks, so I was more than a little tired of being Mrs. Grumptastic. And, as the two boys trailed behind me in the empty hall, I seized the opportunity. With skill honed during many a frat party, I relaxed my esophagus and released a long, reverberating belch that would have brought down the walls of Jericho itself.

The enthusiastic chatter behind me crumbled into shocked silence. After a few seconds, Trevor almost whispered, "Mrs. W, was that you?"

At the end of a trimester, things are always a bit...dramatic. As the slow, deliberate cultivation of procrastination begins to bear pendulous fruit, an air of expectation fills the air. And by "expectation", I mean, "slowly-sinking despair". The kind of despair felt by children who expect to never see their iPhone again.

Cue the requests for Hurculean assistance:"Mrs. W, I need a list of all my missing assignments. All 22 of them. If I turn them in tomorrow, can you grade them before my mom checks my grades tomorrow afternoon?""I need you to print out the directions for the major project we did 4 months ago based on the science unit about evolution that I can't even remember learning about. If I get an A on the project, will it raise my grade to at least a C?""Can you photocopy the missing homework assignment you gave me 5 times last month? You seem to be out of extra copies.""Would you give me some extra credit assignments to help raise my son's grade from an F to a B? We're hoping to get him into WorkYouToDeath academy next year, and we don't want them to think he isn't capable of keeping up."

About Me

I teach in a middle school in Washington. For obvious reasons, I choose not to provide more personal information than that. The names of my school, my district, my co-workers, my students and my cats have all be changed to protect the innocent (or, in my cats’ case, the guilty). Also, while every event related in this blog is true, I may blur details or lie shamelessly about dates and locations.